


Dares you to care

by TheSingerThatYouWanted (orphan_account)



Series: The Mighty Boosh Christmas Countdown Thing [4]
Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: Bisexuality, Fluff, M/M, and an extended David Bowie metaphor, mild sexuality crisis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 12:03:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2731796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/TheSingerThatYouWanted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Howard takes some time to collect his thoughts about Vince.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dares you to care

**Author's Note:**

> This one was inspired more or less equally by a running joke I have with my best friend and the discussion I had to have with my other friend when I tried to explain that bisexual people exist and I am one. It's also my favourite one of these so far.  
> Oh yeah, and there's something in here that I'll probably write more on later so bonus points if you can guess what it is.

Vince had told him to stop falling in love with people just because they showed him the least bit of affection. In the immediate aftermath of the disaster of a party Vince had thrown, Howard had been too messed up to give it any real thought. Now, with a pen in his hand and a fresh notebook on the table, he glanced over at the man sleeping in the other bed and tried to make sense of the mess in his head.  
The problem was that he didn't know where to start.  
His feelings for Vince made no sense. He'd known that much for years. He was straight, probably, he'd been in love with women before, but every time he woke up with the younger man curled up against his chest he would wrap his arms around him without knowing entirely why. During their time at the Zooniverse he'd grown used to the sound of Vince snoring just a few inches away. When they'd got their flat things had changed, but not much. They still shared a room, though they had separate beds now. Howard still fell asleep to the sound of his best friend's breathing. He never woke up with Vince wrapped around him any more, but he tried not to let it bother him. And he always made himself ignore the way Vince would hug a pillow instead, nuzzling into it the way he used to with Howard. More than anything else, he made himself ignore the pang of loss he felt every morning he woke up alone. After all, he was Howard Moon, man of action, and he certainly wasn't jealous of a cushion.  
Then there was the music. Most of the time Vince's music seemed little more than noise to Howard, tuneless yelling and radio static that played at all hours of the day. It drilled into his skull, thumping around inside his head for hours on end. He would try playing jazz when Vince went out on one of his many expeditions to Topshop, but just as the music began to soothe his headache Vince would return, laden with bags and bringing his noise with him. Most of the time Howard could barely stand it. Other times, however, there were moments they aligned perfectly. Both men were huge fans of Queen, and often they would duet on Under Pressure when they were home alone. Howard would do the iconic scatty opening while Vince poured his heart into Bowie's part, letting the music carry him away. On those rare occasions Howard found he couldn't keep his eyes off his friend. The way he moved was mesmerising, improvised dance routines taking him all around the flat in endless intricate spirals. Sometimes he thought the song had been written for them; jazz scat and glam rock, complementing each other in a way nobody could have predicted. Lasting forever.  
He'd always thought that his feelings for Gideon meant he was straight, and therefore there was no way he and Vince could be anything but platonic. One or the other, right? But then he'd gotten inside his friend's mind, literally, and even though Vince didn't know that Howard knew, the simple sentence his brain cell had spoken so casually was still ringing in Howard's ears.  
 _'I do swing both ways...' ___  
Howard had never even known that was an option until then. He'd always seen attraction as a binary but maybe it didn't have to be. Vince looked pretty androgynous anyway, so he reasoned that it wasn't too strange that he would feel something for him. And really, when it came down to it, Vince showed him affection far more often than anyone.  
Howard made a list as he thought, ink the precise colour of Vince's hair flowing smoothly across the paper. Soon the whole page was covered in the ways Vince made Howard love him. When he'd finished, Howard read it over. Then read it again. Carefully he tore the page from his book and laid it on the table beside him. Then he picked up his pen once more and started to write a letter.  
Half an hour and several cups of coffee passed. There was a pile of first drafts by the door where he'd discarded them, but when he looked back over the note on the table he was finally satisfied. He clutched it tightly and walked the two metres to Vince's bed before he could lose his nerve.  
"Vince?" he whispered. For a split second nothing happened and he thought about reaching out and shaking the younger man awake, but Vince blinked awake and stared up at him in concern.  
"Whassamatter?" he mumbled, shaking the last of the sleepiness from his limbs and sitting up. Howard stumbled over his words, trying to articulate something he could barely understand himself, before giving up and simply holding out the slightly crumpled sheet of paper. Vince took it hesitantly.  
"Are you alright, Howard? What is this? Are you-"  
He squinted ineffectually at the letter and put a hand on Howard's arm.  
'Number four,' thought Howard, grateful the dim lighting hid his blush.  
"Here, mate, can you open that curtain? I can't see to read this."  
Howard nodded awkwardly, tugging the fabric back and letting the orange of the streetlights stream in through the dirty window. Somehow it highlighted Vince's features, making him seem almost ghostly as he read. A snatch of fear caught at him and for the first time Howard was the one to cross the barrier between them, clutching at Vince's hand to reassure himself that his friend was still there. Vince threaded their fingers together easily, not looking up but tracing soothing circles on the back of Howard's hand to let him know he was paying attention. After a minute he met Howard's eyes, smiling faintly.  
"You idiot," he said quietly, eyes darting to Howard's mouth before making eye contact once again. Howard blinked and looked away, but Vince's hand was at his cheek holding him there.  
"You idiot," he repeated. "You could have told me years ago."  
"I didn't know until now," confessed Howard, leaning in against the other man's hand. Vince laughed.  
"I thought I was meant to be the slow one," he grinned, pressing his lips carefully to the corner of Howard's mouth. Howard found he didn't know how to respond, but then Vince slipped his arms around his waist and buried his face in the place where his neck met his shoulder and that was more than right.  
"If I fall asleep, you're not allowed to leave," Vince said in a mock-threatening tone, kissing his neck. Howard hid his smile in Vince's hair.  
"Wouldn't dream of it, Little Man."  
Crumpled beneath Vince's knee, all but forgotten, was the note Howard had written. All that was visible poking out from under the blanket was a single line.  
17- You're always there  
From then on, Vince would never leave.

**Author's Note:**

> Nope, still don't own them. Sorry. Your comments on these are awesome, so thank you everyone taking time to do that. They genuinely brighten my day.


End file.
